


Linked Souls

by Vitty



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome Darcy Lewis, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dancing, Darcy Lewis Feels, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Holding Hands, Love, Panic Attacks, References to Depression, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29459760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitty/pseuds/Vitty
Summary: "Now, there wasn’t a goddamn person in the world he would wish to have been burdened with his messy handwriting on their skin. Therefore, he was in no rush to meet his soulmate. The longer they spent apart, the better.""She wore glasses, and he couldn’t see the color of her eyes, but her mouth was dark red, her cheeks lightly flushed from the cold. This was one pretty lady, he thought.... his soulmate."Or Bucky Barnes doesn't want a soulmate and when she finds him he can't let her touch him. He also can't let her go.
Relationships: Darcy L, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 15
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> This is my first fic on this ship, I always tried to write about then but it never felt right.  
> Considering the size of this thing, this time I felt like it was finally working 🙃
> 
> Enjoy...

Bucky liked to run. His feet hitting the ground faster and faster, desperately trying to keep him upright as he pushes his body forward with all strength he has. Every part of running depends solely on him, he decides how fast, where and when to do it. There are few things he can do by himself now days – it has been like that for years — but running is one of them.

He is the Winter fucking Soldier, after all, the H.I.D.R.A spy that killed hundreds of people, did unspeakable things. And he is also the long lost bestie of Captain America, left alone when Steve decided to go back to the past after half of the world died and then came back.

What he really is, though, is done.

Done with people stepping in eggshells around him — he didn’t give three shits if they feared or pitied him. Stupid people trying to label him into something, find a box that fits and leave him there to rotten. It took so much time for him to get himself together when his best friend left, he still trying to get over of all the fucked up things he went through. He won’t pay any more attention to this obnoxious people and their markers.

That’s why he decided to be nice to people who were kind to him and completely ignored the assholes that would take one look at him and run. It didn’t solve much, but definitely made him feel better about his situation.

So, he runs. Until his lungs burn and his feet hurt. Ten, twenty, fifty rounds around the lake, hoping that the next round will be the one that will make him feel better. 

The next one never makes it better.

Bucky was born with words on his skin, much like most people around the Universe. As he was growing up, the thought that there was someone that would complete him was so comforting, he couldn’t wait to meet then.

Now, there wasn’t a goddamn person in the world he would wish to have been burdened with his messy handwriting on their skin. Therefore, he was in no rush to meet his soulmate. The longer they spent apart, the better.

Too bad the Universe has a ironic sense of humor.

...

It was dark outside, probably around midnight, the moon hiding behind black and grey clouds that poured rain all over DC.

His short hair was stuck to his forehead, clothes drenched and heavy, shoes splashing water within every step. Bucky’s mind was once again lost between thoughts, but this time most of then were about his soulmate.

Bucky usually runs in the mornings, but that evening he had to go, rain or not. He was feeling anxious, but didn’t understand the reason why. It was this feeling like something big was about to happen, something important, life changing.

He tried reading, watching TV and cleaning his apartment, he even invited Sam along to the gym so the man could distract him with his incessant talking, but nothing made the feeling go away. So after tossing and turning on his bed for an hour, Bucky got up and went out.

But running wasn’t helping either, it actually seemed like the feeling only increased since he got there. His feet were hurting, he was out of breath and every few steps he felt like he was losing his balance. He knew he should stop, but the idea of doing nothing only increased his anxiety.

Eventually he stopped, letting out a loud growl. There’s no use running if the feeling wouldn’t quit. He stared at the ground, his hands on his knees, the cold weather making thin clouds out of his breath.

“Excuse me sir, are you trying to die of pneumonia?” a voice pulled him out of his head and he turned around to the direction he heard it so fast his neck cracked.

It was a woman. She was a few feet away, under a bright green umbrella that made a green light shine over her, a thick, purple winter coat was wrapped around her tightly, a red hat over her head, her long brown hair dropping from under it. So much color in one little person. She wore glasses, and he couldn’t see the color of her eyes, but her mouth was dark red, her cheeks lightly flushed from the cold. This was one pretty lady, he thought.

... his soulmate.

His hip was burning on the left side, where the words she had just said were marked on him. He looked down and unconsciously moved his hand to cover then over his shirt.

She was still looking at him, a little impatient for a answer for the way she kept moving her weight from one feet to the other. He looked up again and she must have seen something on his eyes, because she took a step forward.

He took a step back.

“I don’t get sick.” He said back, voice low. Not his best work, but what was he supposed to say? It’s his fucking soulmate – the one he didn’t want. It was hard for him to think about not wanting her now she was there staring right at him.

He was staring right back, so he saw her eyes go wide, her chin dropping before she let out a loud gasp. He could see the color of her eyes, and they were light blue – more color. She moved her hand as in instinct towards her neck, where her mark was, and smiled a bright smile that took the floor from under his feet.

Without any warning she threw herself at him, no doubt prepared to wrap her arms around him, but he jumped back in a reflex, dodging her hands before they can touch his chest.

He regretted it as soon as her smile fell. He dropped his eyes to the floor to avoid her hurt expression, feeling embarrassed by his own limitations, angry for not being able to gift her with a movie-like soulmate meeting.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered, his breath shallow because of the knot inside his throat.

“What's wrong?” Her voice broke a little. He didn’t like it, not a bit. She’s scared and he could see it all over her face, reading her like a damn book. But she wasn’t scared of him, she was scared of his reaction. He could see it in her eyes with such power it’s like he was feeling it himself.

“I... I’m...” He began, but wasn’t able to find words to define feelings he couldn’t identify. She stared at him as if she was analyzing his face, then she stepped closer, just a small one, reaching her hand slowly towards him.

He forced himself not to move this time, his eyes following her clothed hand as it got closer. Before it could connect with his cheek, only millimeters away, he closed his eyes, blurting out: “Please don’t touch me...”

And he felt so weak, a disappointment. It’s only a touch, he thought, but the sight of her fingers close to his face was enough to make him desperate, his stomach rolling inside him and his legs shaking.

She pulled her hand back immediately and looked down and they kept in silence for a couple of heartbeats. She opened her mouth twice as if to say something, but no sound came out, her face twisted in a concerned frown. 

“Is the problem the touch or the fact that I’m your soulmate?” She asked, finally. But he liked better when those words hadn’t came out of her mouth. It was such a complicated question, one for which he didn’t know the fucking answer to.

“Both...” he said, but as soon as the word was out of his mouth he realized it wasn’t true. “The touch...” his tone was firmer the second time, he was almost completely sure of his answer.

He spent so much time telling himself he didn’t want a soulmate, fighting his own mind, lying to himself. But looking at her, her big brown eyes filled with worry, how could he deny her? Ignore her existence as if he wouldn’t be breaking her heart if he did so. It was clear to him she wanted a soulmate, she was happy when he said her words. 

Also, there was this pull he felt all around him, a invisible force pushing him towards her. It was instinctive, he decided, as if she was this beign expelling warmth and he was freezing. He couldn’t fight his own instinct, he wasn’t strong enough when it came to his soulmate.

“I just don’t like being touched.” He whispered, afraid of her reaction. She was the one person that should be able to understand him – accept him – according to everything known about soulmates ever. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind who he was.

She looked relieved at his words. Her mouth curving in a small smile and that one expression filled his heart with hope.

“It’s okay, I can understand that. I won’t touch you, I swear!” her tone was happier, lighter. He liked it. 

“Okay!” he said, a little relief scaping his tone and making her smile wider. He looked down, moving his hand trough his hair in a nervous way. She was fucking pretty, all right.

“But I will if you ask me too...” She whispered. Maybe he blushes a little, but he will deny it till the grave.

...

They became friends. 

His soulmate’s name was Darcy Lewis. She was 29 and did not dissapeared with the snap. She was the new PR coordinator Stark hired for the team. The day they met was her third day in the base.

He discovered quite fast how determined she was to keep him in her life. So much so she was the one to find him the day after they met, entering the base’s gym with a powerful stance. She said with every word that she didn’t wait her hole life for her soulmate to give up on him after they met, so he should suck it up and just accept her.

He had to give it to her, it was impossible to say no to her after that performance – not that he was planning to. They agreed to get to know each other, and by Thor, did it work.

She would text him about her day, ask him about his and convince him to watch movies and tv shows with her. She would bake him cakes and pies and cookies. She was there for him when he needed to talk. It was so easy talking to her...

He was there for her, too. Keeping her company at late nights, bringing her lunch so she wouldn’t forget eating, helping her with her boxes when she officially moved into the base.

But they never touched. She was careful about it, always keeping her distance in some way. Her movements slowed down as if to alert him and give him time to move away. He was so grateful, it was like she really cared.

Some weeks into their friendship, he found himself wondering what would be like to hold her hand. The idea just appeared in his mind in a snowy afternoon. They were on her apartment drinking hot chocolate and watching Netflix, she was laughing of something that happened on the movie, eyes shining with amusement. One hand was holding her mug, the one closer to him was resting over her leg. 

His eyes kept going back and forth between her hand and the TV. The thought of holding it like a incessant whisper.

Before he kenw, the movie was over and it’s time for him to leave. He always feels sad when they part, but this time he feels disappointed. If he was somehow more normal he wouldn’t think twice before grabbing her hand in his. But he was a complete fucking mess and there was no way he could do that.

His walk back to his apartment was a horrible one, dark thoughts flowing inside his head, putting him down and breaking his slowly built confidence to shreds. Sometimes he hated his mind, looked at it as if it were his worst enemy. Sometimes it was.

The want to take her hand was still there the next morning, and the week after. He found that the more they hang out, the more he wanted to touch her. If only he could keep his mind quiet for just a second and act without over thinking it for once.

...

Bucky was familiar with the sassy way the Universe worked, always looking for new ways to out do itself on the art of being a complete and crazy mess. No one can ever predict it’s steps, we just go along with it.

But he still found himself wondering what in the fuck was the Universe playing at when unthinkable things happened, like when he fell of a goddamn cliff and managed to stay alive or when he came to seventy years after to discover his best friend alive and still in his twenties just like him. 

Some called it miracles, others called it coincidences... Bucky called it bullshit. 

It began on a normal Wednesday, he went to Darcy’s office to bring her lunch like they usually did every week. It was a common enough thing that he wouldn’t even knock before entering.

She was there, as beautiful as ever, typing away on her computer, looking busy, her eyes moving along the screen with concentration. He sat on the chair in front of her desk – the one she put on just for him because no one else ever go to her office when they need something, they just send a email – dropping the bag of food on it with enough noise to call her attention.

She moved her eyes from the screen directly to his, and smiled. He really liked when she did that, he found, it gave him butterflies. 

“Hello, soldier.” She greeted with a knowing grim. He fake frowned at her, trying to fight his smile.

“I’m no soldier...” he said, only a whisper between his smiling lips.

“So sorry, Sargent Barnes!” She teased. Darcy always called him soldier, only because he always corrected her. He loved it. The way she treated him like a normal human being. The way she teased him and gave him shit. The way she flirted with him... yes, the flirting was the best.

“No worries, doll. Are you hungry?” Bucky knew the answer, it’s always ‘yes'. He opened the bag and started taking out the burgers and fries he had bought. They were from this little store a couple of blocks from the base and he knew she loved them.

“I’m starving!!” She exclaimed and reached for the burger he had placed on the desk. At the same time, he reached for the same burger and their hands brush against each other.

That was the first time they touched.

She freezed and caught her breath loudly as he pulled his hand back so fast he didn’t even see it moving. They stared at each other for long, torturing moments.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I didn’t meant to” She says, her voice so low it’s almost a whisper. She looked so scared, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

Bucky doesn’t answer right away. His brain repeating the moment over and over. The hardest part for him to process being what that touch felt like. It didn’t hurt like his mind expected to, it didn’t sting or burned, it didn’t even itched. The feeling was plain, good even, and that did not compute.

“It’s okay, Darcy!” He said at least, still unsure but worrying that she will be upset if he doesn’t. She didn’t look convinced so she opened her mouth to argue, but he talked before she did. “It is, doll, I swear!” And yeah, maybe it really was.

After some time staring at him, looking for something on his eyes, she nodded and grabbed the burger, avoiding eye contact. They began to eat, at first in silence, and then they were talking again. Soon, it’s like it never happened.

But it did. 

They never talked about it after, even when he caught her eyes on his hands sometimes and other times he would be the one looking at hers. 

As he walked home this time, he found himself going back to the memory of that touch, daydreaming about doing it again. He even imagined his arms around her waist or his hands going through her hair.

And he still panicked when he got home, still felt like crawling out of his own skin when it all caught up to him. The weight of that hopeful thoughts still too heavy for his fragile mind.

...

Three weeks later Bucky was called on a mission longer than the ones he usually did. It’s supposed to be a week, but Sam thought it was going to last longer, so they prepared for more.

Bucky said goodbye to Darcy the night before they left and it was possibly the hardest thing he had ever done. She looked so worried, and he couldn’t belive that it was all because of him. She cared for him, she really really did.

He could see she was trembling when he left her apartment, physically controlling herself not to touch him. She would never touch him if he didn’t ask, and right now she looked like it was almost painful not to. It was killing him, the fact that she wanted it so bad, the fact that he wanted it too. 

He almost took her hand in his as he assured her one last time he would be alright, hand tingling with determination and want. Before the feeling became too strong to fight, he turned away and left.

As it turned out, the mission lasted two and a half weeks. There weren’t a lot of action during those long days, their jobs were mostly recognition and vigilance. Only at the last three days there were shots and fights, but by then he was so ready to come home it wasn’t even fun.

He never thought he could miss someone as much as he missed Darcy during those weeks. Her presence was like sunshine, and his life felt so cold and rainy when they were apart. Life was dull without her.

On top of it, the distance did nothing to calm his turbulent mind. He had hoped her absence would clear his thoughts for a while, but the memories of her and the moments he would imagine they could have together, those never left him.

They landed at the base at down, the obligatory debriefing session ending at record time. Sam was sleeping on his chair when Hill dismissed everyone, and Bucky wasn’t even awake enough to take a picture of him as he drooled.

He went to his apartment and showered. The tension on his shoulders melting away under the hot water, even if for just a moment. Bucky prepared himself a tea before he went to bed, knowing he had to eat something before he slept. He was finishing a sandwich when he heard a quiet knock on the door. 

It was Darcy.

She was wearing a large shirt and leggings, her hair loose and a little messy, like she just got out of bed. Bucky’s heart melted as soon as he took her in. He missed her face so much.

“Darce? Is everything okay?” He was worried, it was 5 am on a Thursday after all. She laughed a little, looking down. Did he just see her blushing?

“Yes! Sorry to show up like this, you must be needing a entire day of sleep or something...” she was babbling a little, and it was so sweet. “It’s just that I kind of really missed you, you know? This two weeks were too long and...” her talking was interrupted as she let out a loud, surprised gasp. Her eyes were wide as she looked down at their hands. He followed her eyes...

Holy fuck! He took her hand!

His eyes opening just as much as hers as he took in the image their hands made together. He was holding her fingers gently between his thumb and palm, his warm skin connected to hers.

“Bucky?” she said, confusion and... happiness evident on her tone. She’s still frozen to her spot outside his apartment, heart beating so fast he felt it on his fingers.

He started shaking as adrenaline ran through his body. His brain was in complete knots as it downed on him what he had just done, oh my god, he really did it.

“I really missed you, doll.” He whispered, his voice carrying so much emotion it broke. She moved her eyes from their hands to his and he could see she was holding back tears. 

“Me too, Bucky...” She said and then she moved her hand on his so she had a better grip, squeezing it gently.

The feeling of her is blissful. The little movements she did with her thumb over the back of his hand sending shivers all over his body and he had to brace himself on the doorway when his knees buckled.

He breathes in and out heavily as he tried to keep himself under control, and it worked. His heartbeat lowering after a while and his shaking body getting a little calmer.

They stayed like that for several minutes, just feeling the pressure and warmth of each other. He almost forgot how tired he was... and then he yawned largely – that broke the spell. She laughed and he couldn’t help but do it too.

He felt really happy, more than he remembered being his hole life. Even if the touch was product of a impulsive action, the meaning of it was too important. It showed him that, If he tried really hard, maybe one day he would be able to hold her in his arms.

“Good night, Bucky. I'll see you tomorrow!” Darcy said, understanding of his tiredness. 

“Night, sweetheart...” he whispered, and her smile widenes at the endearment. That was also a first.

Their hands were still connected when she started moving backwards in the direction of the elevator. Their arms extending as the distance between then grew wider. They fingers gradually slipping away from their grasp until Bucky was no longer touching her. His arms dropped back to his side, the place where she touched him feeling warmer then the rest of his body. The hole time his eyes never left hers, and hers never left his.

After she left, he closed his door, got under the covers and cried. He cried so much his face got red and puffy and he fought to breathe. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried so much for so long, maybe when he was a child. This time, he wasn’t crying because he was sad or afraid or hurt, he was crying because he felt hopeful. 

That’s why by the time he closed his eyes, sleep washing over him, the tears were nowhere to be found. Instead, a small smile played on his lips.

...

She was in the kitchen when he looked for her the next morning, drinking a large cup of coffee and talking animatedly with Jane and Sam. Her hair was up on a tight ponytail, leaving her creamy neck exposed and her soulmark free for anyone to see. 

He never payed attention to her neck before, but that day it was all he could focus on. He walked to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee, almost dripping it all over the counter when he lost his attention by looking at her for too long. With his warm coffee cup in hand, he walked towards her.

Darcy saw him coming and he could swear her smile grew wider. There’s something different about the way she was looking at him and it was making him nervous, in a good way. Maybe there was something different about the way he was recieving her attention.

He sat next to her on the table, leaving some inches between their bodies like he always did. Sipping on his coffee, he began to listen to a story Sam was telling then – well, at least he tried to. If you asked what it was about later that day, he wouldn’t have a fucking clue. 

But he had never been so aware of her body the way he was that moment, like he could feel her even though they weren’t touching. Her presence so loud, everything faded and she was all he could focus on. The heat of her body, her smell, the way she moved, so relaxed and confident.

Bucky flexes his hand under the table, fighting the urge to reach for her. Darcy can feel his distress because in seconds she lowers her hand and rests it on the bench next to her hips. He catches the movement with his peripheral vision. It’s a invitation, he decides. She is telling him that if he wants to, he can take her hand.

So, he did. Slowly, he lowered his hand and left it on his leg for a second. Then, he moved it towards her until he could feel her little finger with his metal one. Ignoring his racing heartbeat, he covers her hand with his and squeezed it lightly.

At the touch, she bit her lower lip, holding a laugh. She looked at him, smiled knowingly and turned her hand so her palm was facing up, wrapping her hand on his. It’s his turn to smile, cheeks feeling a little warm.

“Okay you two, what the fuck?” Sam asked, clearly sensing their distraction. Jane was looking at them with her eyebrows lifted, also waiting for a answer. Well, maybe they weren’t as discreet as he had thought.

Darcy looked at Bucky, meeting his eyes. She smiled pointedly and turned back to their friends. He knew she had a plan when he saw her eyes full of mischief, warning him before she said:

“No idea what you’re talking about...” Her tone wasn’t convincing at all, but it didn’t matter because as soon as she ended the frase she propped herself to her feet. Not letting go of his hand she walked away pulling him along with her, his coffee cup still on his other hand.

He went willingly, not bothering to look at Jane or Sam as he walked beside her. The gasps and laughter that followed their exit being enough for him to know their message was well recieved.

...

That day in the kitchen was the beginning of a different stage on their relationship. After that, if Darcy and Bucky were in the same room, they would be touching. Movie nights, game nights, lunch, dinner or breakfast, his hand was always holding hers.

He felt more confident, and the feeling was so new and so good he could cry. Actually he did, a lot, but it wasn’t a scared panicked cry anymore. He also felt proud, he was fighting his demons and although it still scared him shitless, he now new they could be fought.

It came as a surprise for him, as well as the rest of the team, when, after some time, this new development extended to Sam and Natasha.

Sam’s face was pure shock when, for the first time ever, Bucky rested his hand on his shoulder while they were talking. His eyes opened so wide it was a surprise his eyeballs didn’t fall off.

He didn’t meant to do it, touching Sam, but after he did, he realized it felt right. It was something he couldn’t explain, one moment they were laughing of something that happened on their last mission and in the other he had his hand on his shoulder. His metal arm collecting all the information it could on Sam and sending it to his brain.

“Ownt! You like me!” Sam said smiling wider than Bucky had ever seen. Their previous conversation forgotten.

“Oh, shut it!” Bucky said and removed his hand from his friend’s shoulder. As he left the room, he was surprised with himself, on the best way. His friend deserved this, to know he was important to him, and there was no better way to do it.

With Natasha was intentional. He decided it was time to do it, so he did. It was only a quick touch to her arm as he passed her by one day, but he saw he had surprised the spy.

She didn’t say anything, she didn’even smile, but he knew she was proud of him. She looked at him just a few seconds longer than the usual, and then started walking again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. I wrote a little more as you can see, and when I realized I had this gigantic thing and there was more to be written.  
> Maybe I don't know when to quit, maybe I'm just obsessed. Either way here it is, the next chapter.  
> Enjoy

Hope was never something Bucky imagined he could have. For too long every time he hoped for something, it would get crushed into a billion pieces by his own fucked up life, so eventually he just stopped. There was no point on doing it anymore.

Except now he found himself hoping. It was bigger then him, those hopeful thoughts. Images in his head about being in love with someone – with Darcy – and building a life together. Thoughts about holding her, about being held by her. The constant feeling that he needed more.

There was so much fear inside him, anxious thoughts about every single terrible thing that could happen if he pushed himself too far. She had made it clear it was all up to him, after all, and he should be the one to know what was too much to bear. 

Except he didn’t know. There was no love manual for enhanced super soldiers that were brainwashed for seventy years – at least he hoped there wasn’t. The only thing he could do was expect the best and keep the empirical method of experimentation he has been using from the start.

Like one night, he was watching a documentary with Darcy on his apartment. They were sitting side by side with little space between then, but, as usual, only touching through their hands.

He was tired, his body aching from the complicated mission he had just returned from. His eyes kept closing for more time than normal every time he blinked. Bucky knew he needed to sleep, but was too stubborn to admit it. He also knew that if he said he was tired she would leave, and he really didn’t want her to fucking leave.

But there was no tricking Darcy, she knew him better than anyone on the planet at this point. She saw his eyes fluttering close, and when he tried to hide a yawn by turning his face away. Smiling softly at him, she said.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go. You look like you need to sleep.” Her voice was gentle and understanding, like music to his tired ears, but her words were everything he didn’t want to hear.

“I don’t want you to go yet...” Bucky said giving her his best puppy eyes and holding her hand tighter.

She looked at him and scanned his face for a few seconds, then she rolled her eyes, admitting defeat, and said: “Okay, I’ll stay a little longer. But after this episode you’ll go to bed, soldier!”. She had used that tone that left no room for negotiation, and he relented.

It was when the episode was almost ending, the cute little penguins returning to their loved ones finally, that a idea crossed his mind. One that would not have been executed if his brain wasn’t almost shutting down due tiredness.

In one swift move he released his hand from her grasp and turned his back to her, lying slowly on the couch until his head touched her lap. She looked down at him with wide eyes, hands up like she was caught doing something wrong. Her mouth was open, but she didn’t say a thing.

He smiled reassuringly at her and moved around a little to find a more comfortable position. She laughed quietly, only a huff of air, her face still full of surprise, and lowered her hands. One she rested on his metal shoulder, the other she moved to his hair.

The moment her fingers started moving through his locks, slowly and carefully, he was lost. The feeling so new he couldn’t help but close his eyes, so good he had to hold back a moan.

“Is this okay?” She asked, always so mindful of his limitations. Little did she know he wished she would never stop.

Opening his eyes, he found she was looking at him with such tenderness. No one has looked at him like that since before the war. It’s like she’s grateful, somehow. As if the fact that moment was happening has as much meaning for her as it has for him. This realization so goddamn relieving.

He hummed his response, farther accommodating his head on her lap like a puppy being petted for the very first time. Her face lit up, and her movements became surer, her nails gently moving through his scalp. Bucky held back a moan once again as shivers made their marry way down his body. 

She kept caressing him for what felt like ages, surely more time than what was left for the episode to end. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t keep himself awake for long, falling asleep lying there with her hands on his hair and his head on her lap.

The next morning, after waking up, he spent half a hour lying on his couch, wondering if it hadn’t been only a dream. She had left sometime during the night, leaving him with a pillow under his head and covered him with a blanket, making his heart feels three times bigger. 

A green post-it glued to his bathroom mirror confirmed that it had indeed happened. She wrote ‘Thanks for yesterday, your hair is really soft.’ and didn’t sign it, but why should she anyway? If he had any doubts, her handwriting was still marking the skin of his hip.

Bucky looked away from the note and to his naked reflection on the mirror, the wide grin curving his lips startling him. For a slip second he saw the pre-war Bucky, the charming, easy-laughing man that just wanted to have fun, that lived in the moment and wasn’t afraid of anything. But he wasn’t him anymore and would never be again.

And then his body was trembling, because of fucking course it was. His mind was not prepared for all he had achieved those past months, and that little trip down memory lane was the cherry on top of a mountain of repressed feelings.

He planted both of his hands on the sink, leaning forward to keep himself upright, and took a deep breath. The image of his smiling face printed on his brain making it impossible to think about something else.

Desperately trying to push it away, he tried to busy himself by turning the shower on and quickly getting under it before the water was even warm. The cold water left him a shivering mess but did little to distract him, the images of his past still flowing back and forth inside his mind.

He saw Steve, and everything they lived together, happy and sad. He loved the blond bastard, his loyal best friend that gave him shit and was always in some kind of trouble. They had lived so much together, went through so many happy moments...

Before the good memories could calm him down, he remembered how his best friend wasn’t here with him anymore. It was a bittersweet thought, because at the same time he was happy Steve found his way back to his soulmate, he missed him so goddamn much. He was left alone on a strange freaky world now.

Blocking that thoughts, he tried again to control his mind and look for something to focus on that wouldn’t make his head spin. Turning the shower off and grabbing his towel to wrap around his hips, the green post it caught his attention once more.

It was such a vibrant tone, like it was alive. The way the color was highlighted over the whites of his bathroom took his thoughts to Darcy – Fucking finally! – She was the metaphorical neon green post-it that was, somehow, stuck to him. Against all odds, despite the fact he saw himself as a dull, boring beige with layer after layer of reds underneath.

The way his mind lost itself on memories of Darcy was what he needed. Her smile, her smell, her voice, her touch, her. Eventually, his heartbeat slowed down, his body stopped shaking and the terrible things that prompted on his head dissapeared. She was so good to him, even when she wasn’t physically there.

Due to his panic attack, Bucky decided to stay in and not go to the communal kitchen to have breakfast that morning. He texted Darcy to let her know he wasn’t feeling like socializing, so she wouldn’t worry about him.

It wasn’t the first time he spent the entire day alone in his apartment, it probably wasn’t going to be the last. Darcy never questioned him when he sent those kind of messages, but would always ask for him to come to her first when he felt like going out again, so she could make sure he was okay. He was a real lucky son of bitch.

After Steve left, Bucky found himself getting into low after low. The man was his rock, the only thing he had that connected him to his past, and one day he was just gone. It was a really messed up situation and it felt like hell for weeks. Fortunately, Bucky wasn’t as alone as he felt.

Sam picked him up from the ground and helped him find his own strength back. It was messy and ugly, there were many days he wanted to just give up and run away, but eventually he understood his place on the world. He found happiness and purpose and will.

The only thing Wilson couldn’t do was convince him to see a psychologist. He refused to talk to any doctors, there were things he didn’t even tell Sam. Disgusting things he had done, seen and thought, personal things that just to think about was fucking painful.

Sam had long stopped to try and convince him to see someone, but the last time he tried he gave Bucky a card. “If you ever feel like you are ready to talk, this is the person you should talk to.” He said forcing Bucky to take it.

That was the card that Bucky stared at for hours after he left the bathroom, gathering strength to dial the numbers. He closed his eyes, taking the longest breath he could and then slowly releasing it. When he opened his eyes again, he dialed the number.

...

One year. Bucky met Darcy one year ago and for some miracle she was still around, in fact, they were closer than ever. He had grown so much during that year, facing his fear, grabbing it by the neck and shoving it away. Of course he had more demons to fight, but his progress made him proud.

Dr. Choi was every bit as good as Sam said, always listening, never judging. She had taught him little exercises to help him go through his panic attacks – that happened less and less as the time went by. The psychologist helped him find ways to deal with his baggage, and it was working.

His relationship with the rest of the team was getting stronger. Wanda, Clint, Banner and Vision were more open to his presence... or maybe it’s the other way around. He felt more confident of himself around other people now, maybe that’s why they weren’t keeping their distance anymore.

Bucky started going to move nights, having breakfast with people other than Sam or Natasha. He even began pairing with Wanda during missions, trusting her to have his back.

Yes, he had a panic attack after his first mission with her, and after his first movie night he locked himself on his apartment for two days. But he did those things knowing that he was crossing those boundaries, and the pride he felt of himself after was fucking worth it.

And with Darcy, well, she was just amazing. They were so close now, soul and body, that he could feel her presence from the other side of the base. It was the soulmate thing, he supposed, and it felt so fucking good. It got stronger, more sensitive, the more they connect with each other.

Since that night on his couch, Darcy started to take initiative. She would be the one to reach for his hand or to rest her head against his shoulder. One day she even planted a soft kiss on his hand, her warm lips gentle, her breath making his hole arm shiver.

Bucky found himself day dreaming about doing more, like wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her closer so she was flush against him. The most current, though, was what her lips would feel like against other parts of him. His cheek, his neck, his lips...

One day he would be brave enough do it, kiss her. He remembered kissing, although the mechanics of it were still a little fuzzy. He used to like it, a lot, but was still a pretty scary image for him. Kisses were personal, meaningful, and that scared him more than the actions itself.

It’s a tradition of this century to celebrate the anniversaries of the soulmates first meetings. Each year has a special name that indicates the strength on their bond as time goes by. With their anniversary approaching, he decided to do something nice.

The first year’s symbol was paper, which in Bucky’s opinion was bullshit. His bond with Darcy was so much stronger than that, a frivolous, delicate paper. So, he gave the tradition the bird and decided he would be the one to judge his relationship with his Darcy.

The evening of their anniversary, he ordered Italian food and reserved the communal kitchen – read warned everybody with clearance to that floor so they wouldn’t go there. His plan was to charm her off her feet, and there was no way he would let anyone ruin it. He lighted up some candles and strategically placed then around the room, then, he set the table. It wasn’t perfect, but the candles helped a lot.

He was wearing a suit for the first time since he could remember. All black with a red tie, the way Natasha had told him to. It felt good to look good, it was something he forgot that he liked to do, but now planned to do more.

When he began planning this date he soon realized he didn’t have a clue how people dated in this century – the rules, what is expected, what is acceptable, that kind of shit – so, he ran to Natasha for help. She was so helpful she basically planned to hole thing, and Bucky couldn’t be more grateful.

Darcy showed up exactly on time, and he could smell her perfume before he even saw her. It’s stronger than the one she usually used, sweeter, like flowers and sugar. He really liked it. As he turned around, his mouth went dry.

She looked so gorgeous, hair loose and all wavy falling into her bare shoulders, a short dress hugging her body perfectly. It’s like she came out of a fucking magazine. He stared way to long, to look away was impossible. But she was staring right back and if she didn’t care, neither would he.

The dinner went on without a hitch, full of laughter and warm eyes. She told him about herself, things she hadn’t had the chance to tell before, like her time in college and the time she and Jane run over a nordic god. He opended up about his childhood, Steve and the few things he remembers about the war.

It felt like they’re meeting each other all over again. It’s like they knew each other forever.

“I have a surprise for you.” He said, after they ate, much more confident about it now than when he planned the night. He got up and offered his hand to her.

“Oh, do lead the way, sugarplum...” Her excitement was clear on her voice and she readily took his hand.

He walked her to the balcony. It’s a cloudy night, the moon only a bright blurr under them, the wind slightly chilly, blowing slowly in lazy movements. 

Placing her right in the middle of the balcony, he rested one hand on each of her shoulders and analyzed her her eyes. Darcy smiled nervously.

“Don’t move.” Bucky whispered and when he pulled his hands from her she thought he was going to walk away. He didn’t. Instead, he found her right hand with his metal one and rested his flesh hand on her waist. Her surprise at the new contact was amplified when he pulled her closer.

Her face was close to his, her high hills making her high enough so that his mouth was leveled with her forehead. If he leaned a inch closer, her skin would touch his lips. Her body relaxed but her pulse was frantic against his fingers and he felt her shaking when she moved her left hand to his neck.

“I’m liking this surprise...” she said, her voice raw, nervous. Her breath was hitting his throat with every word and he forgot his name for a second.

“Now, Friday.” Bucky’s voice was so low he fears the AI wouldn’t be able to hear him, but moments after a soft melody began to play. Darcy smiled at him wider, a knowing look on her features.

And as the singer started to sing, Bucky moved. It’s weird at first. He knew exactly what he was doing, he even practiced the night before, but Darcy was completely lost on her feet. He laughed when she stepped on his foot, murmuring a embarrassed apology without looking him in the eyes.

“Doll, look at me.” He said, sopping his movements. She reluctantly took her eyes from his chest. She is so damn beautiful, all embarrassed on his arms. “Step on my feet.” Her eyebrows raising in confusion.

“Why?” She asked, but stepped over his shoes. The new position brought her closer, much closer than she has ever been. He circled her waistp tighter with his arm to keep her from falling, the hand she had on his neck doing the same.

She got a little taller, so her face was mere inches from his, her mouth leveled with his chin. He could feel her breasts against his chest and the warmth of her body. This was absolute heaven.

“I want to dance with you, Darce. But you are terrible at it.” Her shocked face at his words making him laugh loudly, vibrating deep inside his chest. She had a found look on her face when he looked at her again, but she tried to hide with fake annoyance.

“Excuse you, I’m awesome at everything! Dancing included. Not my fault you only dance old people dances...” She says to his neck. He smiled at her even if she couldn’t see it.

“You wound me, doll.” He whispered into her hair. Darcy didn’t feel the need to reply this time, the feeling of him too distracting to think straight.  
A new music began, this one is a little quicker with a fast pace he easily matched with his steps. Darcy smiled brightly when she realized how good he was at dancing. As she didn’t have to worry about stepping on his toes, she started to understand the appeal to dancing like that. It’s fun.

They danced for a long time, holding each other and laughing and smiling and feeling so many feelings. She dropped her head to his shoulder at some point, his metal hand eventually finding her waist along with the flesh one. The elaborate dance steps he was doing slowly giving way to just swaying around.

“You know...” she began, and it’s been so long since any of then said anything that her voice sounded weird. “... we are hugging.” He could hear her smile through her voice.

“Yes... we are.” He said. They really were, finally! In that moment it downed on him how similar the two things were, dancing was basically hugging while moving your feet. Maybe, when he was planning this part of the date, his own mind tricked him into this. Using dancing as a way to hide the fact that what he really wanted to do was hold her in his arms.

True or not, he had his arms tightly wrapped around her and didn’t feel like panicking at all. He felt more relaxed than ever, actually, so who gives a shit?

.

The crew on the Avengers base didn’t bat a eye at the site of Bucky and Darcy hanging around hugging each other. No one was even a little bit surprised at the evolution of they careful but happy relationship.

It was different at the beginning , crew members gossiping about them, people worried about Darcy’s safety, everyone staring at their every move. To be overlooked by then was to finally be accepted, he supposed.

The team was a little more vocal about what they thought about their relationship. Sam had all kinds of reactions when he first saw Bucky hugging Darcy. 

They were outside on the back garden, Darcy was commenting something about the flowers and stopped in front of one huge sunflower to smell it. Bucky was right behind her and when she stopped he hugged her from behind, paying attention to her every word.

Sam was finishing his morning run, heading back to the tower, but the moment caught his eyes. It didn’t feel weird to see Bucky wrapped around Darcy, it felt right. Sam was proud of Bucky, happy to see him freeing himself of his own scared mind. It was all his friend ever wanted, and he was finally getting it.

“You too look awfully cosy this morning...” he said when he passed then by, his eyes crinkled and mouth curved.

Bucky turned his head around to look at him, and Sam gave him a knowing smile that carried all the pride he felt for his friend.

“The only awful thing here is your face" Bucky shot back, but felt his cheeks go warm just the same. He mentally thanked Sam for all the things he had done to make that moment possible.

Sam laughed loudly all the way to the entrance of the base. Turning around at the last second to gaze at the couple and wink at them.

And there was no forgetting the first time Darcy sat on his lap. It was quite the surprise since this time she asked for what she wanted, feeling more confident about breaking another barrier.

They were on the communal living room making good use of the huge television Tony had just purchased. She was holding his left hand with hers and his right arm was dropped over her shoulders. It was a perfect evening in Buckys opinion, but boy, did it got better.

She was distracted, looking back and forth between the television and him. He could tell there was something she wanted to say and decided to wait for her time, but after twenty minutes of that he started to get a little anxious.

“Hey, Doll?” he began, looking down at her. “What’s going on?” She looked at him wide eyed, like a deer on the headlights.

“Eh, I kind of want to ask something...” Darcy answered slowly, clearly nervous. He hummed, sighing at her to keep going. “But I don’t want to push you, you know?” 

“Okay.” He said, willing to hear what she wanted. There was nothing Bucky wouldn’t do for her, even if it meant he had to push himself. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t afraid, but in his heart he trusted her not to ask for something she knew it would be too hard for him.

“Can I... I mean, do you think it would be okay if I... sat on your lap?” Her voice was almost a whisper, her face twisted with concern.

He thought about it for a second. Darcy wanted to sit on his lap... I would be similar to what they are doing now, except her body would be over his. The back of her tighs against the front of his, her back against his chest... He could do that.

“Okay.” He said with a coy smile, and her face lit up completely. She got up with a jump and stood in front of him.

“How are we going to do this?” She asked, hands on her hips as her eyes went over him. Bucky knew exactly what to do.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to turn her back at him. She did as he wanted without even thinking, trusting him. Then, he held both her arms with his hands and pulled her into him quickly. Darcy let out a “Yelp” as her body fell onto his.

“A little warning next time?” She said, turning her face to look at his. He didn’t answer, just wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“Is this okay?” he asked after she relaxed over him and dropped her head to the side to rest against his own.

“Yep!” she said, happiness all over that one little word. “You?”

“Yep!" he answered, feeling every bit of that happiness himself. 

And they stay like that for a long time, just enjoying each other in silence, watching crappy television. That is, until Tony showed up.

The scientist got out of the elevator and took two steps before stopping. He looked at the pair with surprise, and then the expression turned into mock disgust.

“You do realize this is a public space?” Stark stated crossing his arms.

“Yes.” She said plainly without moving her head from Bucky’s shoulder, her eyes still locked on the television. Bucky just grunted.

The scientist nodded and let out a loud sigh, then turned around and left murmuring “I liked it better when they just stared at each other like morons...”

“That was easy...” Bucky said, amused. Tony rarely missed a opportunity to tease them.

“it really was.” She lifted her head to find his eyes. “Should we ask if he’s okay?” Bucky frowned at her.

“And get up? Absolutely not. I’m not moving ever again!” To prove his point he wrapped his arms more firmly around her.

“You make a valid point, mister!” She conceded and dropped her head back into his shoulder. He just laughed and concentrated on the television again.

As the weeks went by something that he thought would never happen again, did. He had a different reaction to Darcy’s touch, less friendly than the ones before, that came as a shiver down along his spine to that long forgotten part of his anatomy.

He remembered the rush of desire he used to have when touched the right way, how it would make his hole body shiver and ache and want. It felt weird to feel it again after all those years.

But she was so close to him all the time now, her hand moving slowly over the back of his neck, a hand on his knee when they had breakfast, the feel of her body when they hugged. The most memorable one happened when they were saying good bye before he left for a particularly long mission, and at the last second she pressed a quick kiss to his chest, like she couldn’t help herself, and he felt that kiss for hours after they parted. She was resuscitating that part of him that wanted more. 

After it happened once, it just kept happening. Sometimes the memories of the touch alone would be enough to make him hard. The situation was maddening, his body asking for something his mind wasn’t ready to do yet.

His response to her was getting harder to hide, too. He feared it would push her away or make the situation embarrassing. There was no way in hell he would let a hard on get between him and his Darcy. Jesus, that is not what he meant! Get your head out of the gutter, man...

So he would try and find ways to keep his sanity and at the same time touch her as much as he could. He would fail every time. Then, the only thing left to do was find a crappy excuse to leave and take the coldest shower FRIDAY could supply.

He needed help. Fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeyy!  
> Please tell me what you think in the comments, they really help me feel good about the things I write and be confident to write more!!
> 
> I still have a least one more chapter to write until the story is finished, because clearly I just lost all control of my life... sooo thank you for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> So, what are your thoughts? Any tips, complains, compliments? Be free to share!
> 
> I feel like it needs more chapters, to close the story, maybe? I don't know yet, well see.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this baby♥️


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